Why Fern?
by basicnsync
Summary: What is it about that name? Just a short fluff piece on the dreamy duo. Inspired as my fourth graders finished the classic for a novel study.


"Why Fern?" she asked, her wet hair sending streams of water cascading down her shoulders. Marty watched the path of one stream as it veered over the top of her breast and disappeared under her towel. He lost his concentration. "Focus, Deeks. Why Fern?"

"Are you kidding me? Did you ever read _Charlotte's Web_?" he sputtered.

"Come on! Was Fern the pig or the spider? I can't remember. I'm insulted either way," she pouted. She couldn't believe she had never asked him before.

He chuckled. "No, Kens, Wilbur was the pig. Charlotte was the spider. Hence, _Charlotte's Web._ "

"Then who the hell was Fern? Was she the old lady who gave the pig a buttermilk bath?"

Now he guffawed. "No! She was the little girl who raised Wilbur on a bottle. She used to put him in her doll carriage when he got tired."

"Eww. You wanted to ride in a doll carriage?" She bent over and slapped her knee laughing.

"Nah," he said, smiling softly. "I just wanted someone to take care of me like that."

The laughter died on her lips. "Oh, Marty."

"No, I don't mean to be all pitiful like that! This is a GREAT memory. Fern was my first crush. She lived on a _farm_ , and she got to sit in the barn with all the animals. She confronted her father about killing the runt of the litter, and he listened to her. I was smitten!" Marty's eyes had the unfocused look of someone lost in a memory. Kensi looked at him and her heart swelled.

"At the end of the book, Fern goes to the county fair where Wilbur is winning awards. But her interest progresses from pigs to boys."

"At that age, I thought boys _were_ pigs!" snickered Kensi, not wanting Deeks to think she had gone too mushy.

"Well, let's just say my first pangs of jealousy were directed at one Henry Fussy. He took Fern for a ride on the Ferris wheel. My Fern…" he said wistfully, playing up the drama by pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Then providence intervened, and I knew there was a higher power. Mrs. Crump announced that the fourth grade was going to put on a play, and-wait for it..."

"Shut up! You put on _Charlotte's Web_?" asked Kensi. She was enjoying this glimpse into Marty's life, relieved that he had a memory that didn't include bruises.

"We did indeed! And Fern was going to be played by none other than my classroom crush-Ashley of the chestnut _pig_ tails."

"Oh, I see what you did there with the pigtails thing. Clever," Kensi said with a smirk. "Hey, who played Henry Fussy?" She looked at him expectantly. He grinned. "Was it you?"

"I was chosen for that very role, actually," he revealed. "Well, I kicked Jonathan Lipscomb under the table so he wouldn't raise his hand. "Me and Fern…" he sighed.

"Livin' the dream!" teased Kensi, reaching for his hand. "So, spill! Did you get stage fright? Did you get to kiss her? I want to know."

"No kisses on stage—but I did get to hold her hand," he said with a grin. I saw her wipe her hand on her dress afterwards, but I didn't wash mine for a week! Then one day at recess we met behind the slides where the teachers couldn't see. And that's where the magic happened. I kissed her right smack on her lips. She had been eating a jolly rancher—green apple. I can still taste it," he said wistfully. Kensi couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or not. She kept waiting for him to say something silly, but he just continued to smile.

"Was she your girlfriend then?" asked Kensi, wanting him to continue.

"No. She told the teacher who called my dad, and…" he shrugged. "I missed a couple days of school that week." He looked at Kensi and tilted his head. "I had 'the flu' a lot that year," he said nonchalantly. So much for no bruises.

Kensi moved behind him and started massaging his shoulders, staying quiet so he would go on with his story. Marty reached across and behind his body, grabbing her left wrist with his right hand, and pulled her around him so that her upper body was resting in his lap. He cradled her, using his leverage to position her for a lingering, needy kiss. She reached her hand up to his jaw and extended her fingers into his hair gently.

He sat up straight after the kiss, looking at her like she was the prize at the county fair. "After that, every girl I was interested had to be compared with Fern."

"You mean Ashley, right?" asked Kensi.

"Nope. Fern would not have told the teacher. Ashley was not under my spell, but I could imagine Fern was. Hey, do you remember when you first met Ray and he said that you looked just like someone?"

"Yes," she said, sitting upright beside him. "Do I look like Fern?"

"Why, you're as pretty as a pig in a poke, but no." He sighed. "Fern didn't have a cowlick right here," he teased, touching her hairline. She grabbed his finger and twisted his hand. "Oww, oww, what I mean is—you're a smoking hot version of Dream Fern!"

"Ray did say that you were a sucker for brunettes," she grinned.

"Well don't tell my girlfriend!" he said, waiting for the punch. It never came. Instead, she flipped around so that she was straddling his lap, facing him. The kiss she drew him into left both of them seeing stars, and he used his strength to ease her onto her back while he held her tightly.

As he loosened the towel and marveled at the sight of her under him, he breathed her name.

"Call me Fern," she said.

He grinned and inhaled the scent of the body wash he had put in her Christmas stocking. Green apple.


End file.
